The morning sun filtered through the half-drawn curtains, warm but unwelcome. Arya sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone. A blank screen. No messages. No missed calls.
She sighed, dragging herself up. The dream still clung to her skin like mist, even after a hot shower and a strong cup of coffee. She moved through her morning as if in someone else's life—brushing her hair, getting dressed, stepping outside.
The world looked normal. But she didn't feel normal.
Work passed in fragments.
Her fingers typed reports she couldn't remember writing. Her smile was automatic. Her eyes kept flicking to the clock.
Across the office, Meera leaned into Rihaan, whispering something that made him chuckle. Arya watched them for a heartbeat too long. Then looked away.
They were just friends. She told herself that. Over and over.
Still, something in her chest shifted—a quiet ache that didn't have a name.
"Earth to Arya?" Isha's voice cut through the fog.
Arya blinked. Isha was standing by her desk, holding two coffee cups.
"Come on," Isha said gently. "Let's take a break. You look like you've been sleepwalking."
Arya gave a weak smile. "Feels like it."
They sat on the rooftop terrace, a quiet space with a view of gray skies and crowded streets. Isha handed her a cup.
"Black. Extra strong. Just how you like it when you're spiraling."
Arya raised an eyebrow. "I'm not spiraling."
Isha just sipped her coffee, not arguing.
A long pause.
"I had the dream again," Arya finally admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "Third time this week."
Isha turned to her fully. "The same one? Burning forest, golden eyes?"
Arya nodded. "And this time... he spoke to me. Said, 'You always die for me.'
Isha's face darkened. "That's... unsettling."
"No kidding. I wake up breathless, and it sticks with me all day. I feel like... I don't know. Like something's coming."
"Then maybe you need a reset. A break."
Arya smiled faintly, the hint of a plan forming. "Actually... I've been thinking about that. Rihaan's birthday is next weekend. I want to plan a surprise trip. Somewhere cold, quiet. Away from all this."
Isha brightened. "That's actually a brilliant idea. Distraction therapy. Where were you thinking?"
"There's this forest town. Snow-covered, pretty remote. My grandmother used to talk about it. I think... it might help."
"You sure it's not because of the snow-covered woods in your dream?" Isha teased lightly.
Arya shrugged. "Maybe. But I need something real to hold onto. And I want to do something special for him."
That night, Arya sat on her bed, phone in hand.
She created a group chat.
"Birthday Surprise Getaway!"
She added Rihaan, Meera, and Isha.
Arya: Surprise, people! Next weekend, we disappear into the snow. No excuses. My treat.
Meera: OMG YESSSS! I've been dying to escape. Count me in!!
Isha: Sounds fun. Thanks for including me, Arya. Also... I'll help you plan.
Rihaan: Haha wow. This is unexpected. But cool. Where are we going?
Arya: Can't tell you. It's a birthday surprise, remember?
Rihaan: Right. Alright then. I'm in.
Arya smiled at her screen.
But the smile faded just as fast. Meera's excitement felt... off. Too eager.
And Rihaan's replies were casual. Too casual for someone whose girlfriend just planned a whole trip for him.
She shook it off. Maybe she was just overthinking.
Again.
Later that evening, she sat with her grandmother near the fireplace. The flames danced low, casting shadows across the old woman's lined face.
"I told Isha about the dream," Arya said.
Her grandmother didn't look surprised. "And how did she take it?"
"Better than I expected."
A pause.
"I also planned a trip. For Rihaan's birthday. Just a weekend away. Me, him, Meera, and Isha."
Her grandmother set her knitting down. "Where?"
Arya hesitated. "The old forest town you used to talk about. The one with snow year-round."
The old woman's eyes sharpened. "That place remembers."
Arya frowned. "Remembers what?"
"Not what. Who."
A chill crept up Arya's spine.
Her grandmother reached over, gently squeezing her hand. "Just be careful. Don't chase shadows thinking they're memories."
Arya nodded slowly, unsure what to say.
That night, she stood again on the porch, wrapped in a shawl, eyes scanning the darkness beyond the hills.
The woods seemed alive. Waiting.
Wind brushed against her cheek like a breath. Somewhere in the trees, a branch snapped.
Arya's hand went to her chest—to the spot where she had felt the stranger hold her in the dream.
For a moment, the world felt thinner. As if something ancient breathed just beyond the veil.
She whispered into the night, not knowing why:
"Please... don't let this be another mistake."
The Silence, as always, said nothing.
But it listened.